Irukanii
by Meiyo no Ko
Summary: If one can't differentiate between fresh and rotten milk, then somewhere, a lapse in education has occurred. What if, however, there WAS someone there to teach Naruto all the little things necessary to live by one's self? When scheming old men, hapless chuunin, and one loud jinchuuriki mix, Konoha, and one certain apartment complex, might never be the same.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Disclaimer, yeah. I don't own, in any way, shape, form, or fashion, Naruto or any rights thereof. I do however, own this story (as much as one can own intellectual property, I suppose) and I very much hope you will enjoy it. And so, without further ado, read on, dear readers. **

"Hokage-sama," began one of the desk-chuunin as he stepped through the door, bowing respectfully as he did so. "Ashida-san is here to see you. She says it's about the Uzumaki br-" With a visible effort and an apologetic wince, the chuunin changed his phrasing to a more neutral word. "Boy, that is. My apologies, Hokage-sama."

"Accepted," the Hokage answered, inclining his head toward the chuunin as he removed his smoldering pipe from his mouth. "Try not to let it happen again."

"Of course, Hokage-sama," responded the chuunin.

"That aside, you said Ashida-san has come to see me again? That would make the tally what, four times this month now?"

The chuunin looked up enough for both Sarutobi and the ANBU (who the chuunin could not see, but knew were there regardless) to see the small smirk twitching at his lips and making his eyes light momentarily in amusement. "Seven, sir. She's won me my fair share of drinks, I'm not afraid to say. It's too bad my winning streak appears to be at its end. Who knows if the next one will be quite so regular?"

Sarutobi, after allowing himself a moment of amusement, sobered and pinned the chuunin with the same eyes that had witnessed the rise of the Legendary Sannin. "You judge this to be the end, then?"

"Hai, Hokage-sama. She appeared most distraught," the man replied without hesitation.

Rubbing his temples tiredly, and shooting a death-filled glare at his immortal foe, paperwork, he turned back to the chuunin, face set. "Send her in, then. Best to get this over with. And of course, this will mean more paperwork..." Behind him, he was absolutely certain he heard one of the ANBU snicker.

Eyes narrowing underneath his hat, he resolved to make certain the shipment of books Kakashi was oh-so-eagerly awaiting met with an unfortunate "accident" before it reached Konoha. Penning a short reminder to himself, which he then stowed in a convenient pocket in his outer robes, he reached for the next sheet of the never-ending stack sitting ever so innocently next to his ink brush and seal.

He hadn't finished looking through more than half the page when Uzumaki Naruto's most recent caretaker entered the room, directing a low bow to the Hokage before lifting her head, signs of her ire evident in her red face and the clenched fists held tightly to her sides. "Hokage-sama, with all due respect, I no longer find myself capable of caring for that de-_child_. I have tried, and tried to give him a chance, but he _refuses_ to behave in a civilized manner, and I-I can't take it anymore. I apologize most sincerely, but I refuse to be his caretaker for any longer. I feel I have more than fulfilled my duty as a citizen of Konoha."

Sarutobi nodded slowly, allowing the woman to recover from her speech before replying. "Very well, Ashida-san. I cannot, of course, force you to reconsider your decision. For the sake of clarity, however, would you please inform me of what it is he's done _this_ time?"

Relaxing slightly the rigid set of her spine, and calming considerably now that her piece had been said, the woman took a deep breath before answering the Third's question. "He dyed the entire building's laundry orange. Orange! As if it wasn't enough that he insists on wearing that disgusting color himself! Everyone's clothes are ruined now because of him!"

Ignoring the sounds of Dog's stifled amusement (those books were definitely meeting with an accident, preferably one involving heavy use of the Katon jutsu), the Hokage met Ashida's eyes, which had regained their earlier fire after the recollection of the events which had led to her standing in front of her employer. "I presume you attempted to clean the affected items of clothing?"

The woman looked pained. "Hai, Hokage-sama, but... Whatever he used, it wouldn't come out, no matter what we tried. It was all I could do to keep the other residents from hunting him down and dying _him_ orange."

"Of course," Sarutobi assured her, "Your conduct was most exemplary, I'm sure. Are you positive I couldn't persuade you to remain with him?"

"I'm deeply sorry, Hokage-sama, but I don't think I could handle even one more day with him. Today was simply the last straw."

"Very well, deliver your letter of resignation to Hoshino-kun before you leave. He will ensure you receive the last of your pay."

Ashida bowed one last time before exiting the way she had come, her face forming an expression of utmost relief. Sarutobi waited several moments after she was out of sight before rubbing his temples wearily. 'More paperwork...' he thought to himself, before setting his mind to the problem presented by Naruto's now-former caretaker.

Who could he get to look after the boy now? He had turned six just a few months before; it wouldn't be unthinkable to find someone to teach him how to live fully on his own. But who? There were not many people in the entirety of Konoha who would treat the holder of the Kyuubi fairly, even with the Hokage himself as his benefactor.

As he lit his pipe and leaned forward in his seat, steepling his fingers and pondering the possible candidates, his gaze fell onto a folder placed rather precariously a fourth of the way through the monstrous pile of paperwork currently dwarfing his desk. _Recently Promoted Chuunin._

Carefully maneuvering the file out of the paperwork mountain and onto the cleared portion of the desk directly in front of him, he flipped through the pages, noting how few of them there were. If he recalled correctly, only five Konoha teams had competed in the most recent Chuunin Exams, held in Suna. Of those five teams, only four individual genin had been promoted.

His fingers paused, holding the second to last page, which he regarded with interest. That particular young man had demonstrated a thorough knowledge of the basic shinobi skills, made glaringly obvious when held up against the flashy and ostentatious jutsus utilized by his opponents in the third portion of the exam. In addition, he would likely find more in common with young Naruto than either of them would like to admit. 'Yes,' Sarutobi thought, 'he'll do just fine. Now, to determine his mission status..."

Iruka wearily let himself into his apartment, making his way to the secondhand couch that dominated his small living room. Collapsing onto the worn and discolored cushions with a long sigh of relief, he leaned his head up against the back of it. 'I just completed my first B-rank mission,' came the thought, struggling upwards through the fog of utter exhaustion. A brief flash of pride filled his mind before quickly being consumed by the bone-deep fatigue filling his body.

The captain of his team had required that each member give their very best, which, admittedly, was no less than he routinely demanded of himself. His name was practically legend amongst the shinobi of Konoha, and Iruka felt honored to have served under him. Honored, yes, but at that exact moment, he also felt very, very tired.

Blinking his eyes slowly, he decided that the couch was as good a place to sleep as any. It wasn't _much_ less comfortable than the bed, after all. Before he could commit to a final blink, however, a flash of red from the side table located directly next to the side of his couch caught his attention.

His eyes, regrettably, remained open after recognizing the seal and ribbon used by the Hokage for messages. He slowly forced his arm to reach out and grasp the scroll, drawing it back to him in the same manner that a child would hold a particularly offensive vegetable.

Bringing it close to his face, and making his blurry eyes focus, he noted the Hokage's seal, clearly emblazoned and standing in sharp contrast to the stark white of the paper beneath it. Reluctantly, he broke open the scroll, feeling a moment of pleasure at the short length of the missive, before that moment was cruelly ripped from him as soon as he began to read it.

The phrase, _as soon as possible_, in that instant, seemed worse than the foulest curse ever thrown at him by an enemy. He whimpered, unable to face the prospect of dragging himself to the Hokage Tower when his body was so desperately craving sleep. The postscript, in which the Hokage once more cemented his reputation as the Scariest Man Alive, was to Iruka a blessing straight from the kami themselves.

_It will do no one any good for you to show up when you're too tired to even stand._

Iruka set the scroll back onto its original position on his table, then decided that if he was awake enough to comprehend what he had just read, he was awake enough to change out of his dirty and bloodied mission clothes and sleep in his own bed. And so, moving in a manner reminiscent of a man five times his own age, he did.

A huge thank-you to everyone who's read this far! I hope you'll stick around for chapter two, but if not, I can't argue with your personal preference. Reviews are definitely welcome, and are like onigiri for my soul... Anyway, thanks again, and I'll be back!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, everyone, thanks for coming back! I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter of dunh-dunh-dunh: Iruka-nii! (You may all applaud now. :P) Carry on with your reading, even as you shake your collective head at my silliness. I'll just stop talking now...**

Early morning light where there should have been none assaulted Iruka's eyes as they painfully cracked open, breaking free of the crust accumulated during the night and revealing sleep-dulled brown orbs before snapping shut a second later. Gritting his teeth, the newly-appointed chuunin went about the difficult task of forcing his body to remain awake instead of flopping back down on his comfortable bed, pulling the pillow over his eyes, and going back to sleep.

Eventually he gave up on doing it in increments and swung himself up into a sitting position, eyes still tightly closed. Running a hand through his shoulder-length hair, he let out an enormous yawn that threatened to completely unhinge his jaw.

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes halfway, lifting his hand in preparation to shield them from the demonic light. More than a few moments later his eyes were as awake as the rest of him, which was the best he could expect in his present condition.

He scanned his rather spartan bedroom for a second before focusing the brunt of his fury on the traitorous piece of cloth that had failed in the line of duty. His eyes widened slightly and shock was plainly evident on his face when he caught sight of the curtain itself, before a shutter dropped over his gaze and he uttered a short expletive accompanied by the name of his best (some might say only) friend. "Mizuki..."

He felt slightly ashamed for blaming the curtain; after all, it certainly wasn't its fault some idiot decided to cut the character for 'lazy' out of it. No, he most certainly blamed the idiot himself.

Momentarily putting aside the (admittedly pleasant) thoughts of painful vengeance running through his mind, he heaved himself to his feet, years of training paying off as his shinobi grace kicked in before he could do something so unseemly as fall on his face. And if he did falter a bit, well, it was understandable, right?

Making his way over to his closet, he quickly grabbed his clothes for the day and pulled them on, his recently-won chuunin vest going on last, complete with pouches for both kunai and scrolls. As he fished around in his pocket for his always-handy hair tie, memories from the night before came flooding back, and once more an unmanly whimper left his lips.

Now that he was aware of the important meeting he needed to attend (it was at this point that he regrettably recalled that phrase "as soon as possible"), he sped up his already rapid morning routine, if it could truly be called that.

Suddenly glad that he had had the foresight to shower the night before, he left his bedroom and continued down the short hall until he reached his rather spartan kitchen.

Normally he was a rather adept cook, and made certain to keep both fresh fruit and vegetables in stock, but the mission he had just returned from (again he recalled its significance, and was filled anew with pride, this time not driven off by exhaustion) had lasted almost a week, prompting him to get rid of any remaining produce before he left.

The mostly clean refrigerator door swung open on hinges that had somehow lost their protective coating of oil in the few days he had been gone. Or had it been like that before? He was fairly certain he would have remembered a sound that annoying.

Shaking the presently unimportant thought off like errant water drops, he leaned down and stuck his head into the fridge, not truly needing the closer proximity to reach a prognosis: it was empty. Not just empty like an empty closet, but empty like an empty kunai pouch when you're surrounded by enemies in the middle of a nation not your own. He needed food, dangit!

He shut the door with no small amount of regret, once more forced to listen to the hideous sound. At least there was always instant ramen. He opened one of the few cupboards and removed one of the many brightly colored packages it held within it.

_Definitely not as good as Ichiraku's_, came the thought, _but it will have to suffice_. Then and there, he decided that a major shopping trip was definitely in order after he finished his meeting with the Hokage.

He filled the kettle sitting innocently on the back burner of his compact stovetop with water, then settled on one of the two chairs sitting behind the counter to wait for the water to boil, then the necessary three minutes to cook the ramen.

While he was waiting, he pondered the possible reasons the Hokage could have for summoning him, and in such an urgent manner, at that. He came up with, then just as quickly discarded, several possibilities before deciding to simply wait and see what would come of the meeting.

He hopped lightly off the stool when he heard the water start to boil in the kettle, then settled back onto his seat after pouring the incredibly hot liquid over the prepackaged noodles. The three minutes came and went very quickly as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't the least bit nervous. In the end, his internal pep talk did nothing to convince him of that not-quite-fact, and he had to forcibly turn his attention to his meal when his lack of focus almost caused him to burn himself.

Slurping down the noodles and delicious miso broth calmed him somewhat, but he knew that the feeling would likely stay for very long. After making sure to drink the broth down to the very dregs, he carefully placed the bowl into the sink, then turned away, before being suddenly struck by the awful truth: he had nothing left to distract himself with, and no reason now to put of meeting with the Hokage any longer. (Truthfully, he didn't know why he was so nervous. The Hokage, in all likelihood, simply wanted to re-go-over some of the details from a previous mission.)

With that thought held firmly in his mind, he walked the short way to the door, slipping on his sandals as he stepped outside of his apartment. The door shut soundly behind him with a minimum of noise, and he made sure to listen for the click of the lock (and the less-audible activation sounds of his various traps) before leaping from the walkway to the tile roof, and making his way to the Hokage's office.

The look present on the Hokage's face when Iruka quietly entered the room, a grave, solemn gaze, instantly put him on edge, and, in that moment, his lack of knowledge of what was to come scared him more than anything he had ever felt before.

One of the many and oft-touted rules of shinobi, the most important, according to some, said that you _never_, under any circumstance, went on a mission for which you had no intel. To do so was considered practically suicide.

Then the moment passed, and Iruka once again felt at ease in the company of the man who had comforted him after his parents' deaths, and had seen his pranks as the ploys for attention, whether good or bad, that they were.

He bowed, tilting his upper body forward almost parallel to the ground, then stood at attention, waiting patiently for his leader to speak.

The Hokage shifted in his chair, settling his robes around him (Iruka was flabbergasted. _Unease? From the Shinobi no Kami?_) before looking Iruka directly in the eye and getting straight to the point of the meeting.

"Iruka, I require your expertise for a highly specialized, long-term B-rank mission."

Iruka tried to collect his rampaging, chaotic thoughts into a manageable pile. _Long term? Highly specialized? _

"Hokage-sama, would you be able to clarify exactly what this mission would entail? I don't mean to question your judgement, but, as I'm sure you well know-" at this point he nodded once more to Sarutobi, this time in gratitude "-I only just completed my first B-rank, and therefore I'm not certain I am properly qualified for this position." His stiff manner easily gave away his bewilderment.

Sarutobi nodded, having foreseen the teenager's objections. _You're more qualified than you could know._

"Nevertheless, _I _am certain of it. However, this mission will operate on a voluntary basis-you will not be forced into accepting. That being the case, however, I meant what I said earlier. I think you are possibly the most qualified shinobi in all of Konoha for this particular mission. I need you to teach Uzumaki Naruto to become an independent member of society-that is, how to take care of himself."

The Hokage's pronouncement was met with a stunned silence from Iruka, along with a palpable confusion that rolled off of him in waves. A short time later, when he regained the ability to speak, he did so in halting stops and starts, bewilderment causing him to lose his edge of hard-earned professionalism.

"Wha-" "The jinchu-" "I don-"

"Iruka." The Hokage's calm, commanding voice cut through the fog of uncertainty preying on the chuunin's mind.

"Calm yourself," came the order, spoken in a manner that made it clear he expected to be obeyed.

Thankful for the direction, given in a manner that forced even his shocked brain to remember who it was and comply, he bowed deeply in apology, face ablaze with shame.

"I-I apologize, Hokage-sama. Your words caught me by surprise, but my reaction was out of line." As he spoke, a stiffness entered his words and body, as it was wont to do when he was either embarrassed or uncertain.

"Understandable, Iruka. However, that does not mean you shouldn't be aware of your weaknesses and strive to overcome them. An enemy could use your surprise against you in the field.

"I understand. Thank you, Hokage-sama."

Sarutobi simply waved off the thanks and leaned forward slightly in his chair, letting his forearms rest on the surface of his desk. "I meant what I said, though, Iruka. I think you are the best person to teach young Naruto the things he will need to know."

Iruka nodded to show that he was paying attention, not yet sure what exactly the Hokage was describing but determined to keep quiet until Sarutobi was done outlining the parameters of his new mission-should he accept it.

"Beyond the absolute basics, he does not know how to use money, or how to tell if an item is priced higher than it normally would be-"

At this point Iruka felt a sense of outrage, but held his peace in favor of keeping his commitment to remain respectfully silent until the Hokage was finished. He needn't have worried; Sarutobi noticed the ephemeral emotion without difficulty and provided him with a brief explanation, accompanied by a sigh.

"It is regrettable, but I know it does happen. Even the ANBU cannot be everywhere at once, and although the presence of his previous caretakers (despite the fact that some of them stood by and let it happen) has stopped the brunt of any discrimination, I am afraid it will take up with a vengeance once he is on his own."

Iruka nodded his understanding, not bothering to hide the blatant disgust in his eyes, then waited, allowing his continued silence to speak for him. The Hokage smiled his approval, crow's feet gathering around his eyes, before proceeding with the debriefing.

"Truthfully, I am not certain that he can distinguish ripe vegetables from unripe ones, or that anyone has bothered to consistently inform him of the benefits of eating them. I suspect his many caretakers have found a common ground in simply indulging his obsession and taking him to Ichiraku's for nearly every meal."

Iruka found himself once again affected by the Hokage's words. So the jinchuuriki ate at Ichiraku's too, did he? Small village. He cast himself back in memory, trying to think of the various people he had seen at the stand during his many visits there. Could it have been the quiet brown-haired boy? No, he decided to himself, no one had leveled any spectacular animosity at _that _child.

Then he thought of something else. _Every meal_? That was hardly healthy for a child, let alone one deeply entrenched in such a formative age as (His mind easily provided him with the number. The Kyuubi attack was still not far from anyone' thoughts.) six.

He himself remembered how he was when he was Naruto's age. Vegetables had seemed like torture akin to that now inflicted by Morino Ibiki, but his young opinion on the matter had been definitively changed by his mother one day.

Her discussion had involved the normal threats of _If you don't eat your vegetables then you won't grow into a strong shinobi. You don't want that, do you?_ along with utilizing the desire most small boys have to please their mother: _Oh, but I love vegetables, Iruka, they have such variety. Tell you what, let's go down to the market and we'll pick out one of every vegetable there. Then we can try them all and see which are our favorites. It'll be like a mission!_

Iruka smiled to himself at the memory. That day had long remained one of his favorite remembrances of his mother, and the type of person she had been.

He looked up to see that the Hokage had stopped speaking and was waiting patiently for him to come out of his reverie. Flushing with shame, he apologized once more, temporarily abandoning his previous polite silence in favor of expressing the regret he felt for his lapse in attention.

Sarutobi nodded, making no effort to hide the amusement in his eyes, not at all concerned with Iruka's wandering attention. Truthfully, he was even pleased by it. The chuunin's reaction to Naruto's diet boded well for the mission, and especially for Naruto, although he would likely not appreciate for a long time the removal of ramen as his only staple.

He then continued on as if several minutes hadn't just gone by in silence while Iruka was lost in thought.

"There are many things Naruto will need to learn to live successfully on his own, as I'm sure you are well aware. I truly think you are the best person for the job. Now, for the more technical details of the mission itself. You would be given normal B-rank pay, and a biweekly mission report would be expected. Of course, any off-the-record reports of his progress would not be unwelcome."

Iruka nodded, understanding the point the Hokage was trying to make. He had had no idea that his leader was so close to the jinchuuriki, however. Then again, he realized, he barely knew anything about the bijuu container in the first place.

"The mission does not, at this point, have a definite end. It would be over when you judge Naruto sufficiently capable of living on his own. Beyond your mission pay, you would be given Naruto's monthly allowance, meant to be used for the things he will need, such as food and possibly clothes. Now then, do you still think yourself under-qualified?"

"I... suppose I will have to trust your judgement, Hokage-sama, although I am not convinced that there aren't shinobi in Konoha better equipped for this mission. I accept. When does the mission begin?"

"Immediately. As soon as you leave this meeting you will be considered Naruto's caretaker. I must ask ask you one thing, however," here the Hokage's voice grew unimaginably serious. "Will you mistreat Naruto because of the demon he contains?"

Iruka reacted with a small amount of shock that the Hokage would believe him capable of mistreating a child, but the emotion dimmed somewhat when he remembered just who that child was. He had never given the jinchuuriki much thought, but he would have to have been a much worse shinobi than he was to miss the poisonous whispers of the bloodthirsty monster dwelling in a human guise.

"I trust your judgement, Hokage-sama, and, though I was too young to remember him, I trust the seal of the Yondaime to be capable of holding back the Kyuubi without affecting Naruto." He ended his declaration with a steadfast look in his eyes, utterly convinced of the truth he was speaking.

Sarutobi smiled, grateful to be given clear knowledge of Iruka's feelings on the matter, which were far more positive than he could have ever hoped.

"In that case," he picked up one of the ribbon-wrapped scrolls from its position on his desk and held it out to Iruka, who stepped forward to receive it. "here is all the necessary information on Naruto; I'm sure you will find time to read it before meeting your charge. Speaking of that, you should likely check on him as soon as you are able. His previous caretaker quit almost two days ago, so he has been without one for that time. I instructed the ANBU to leave him some pre-made food, including vegetables, so he hasn't gone hungry, but the point remains. Oh, and Iruka? Thank you. I am sure you will do well by him."

Iruka flushed slightly in pleasure at the compliment, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment even as he did so. "Thank you, Hokage-sama. I will not fail you."

The Hokage chuckled. "No, I'm sure you won't. Dismissed."

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Iruka bowed once more, then turned to leave, exiting the Hokage's office in a slight cloud of shock. He had just agreed to become responsible for the jinchuuriki, possibly Konoha's most important child. Even more important than that, he was now responsible for a _child_! Weren't they extremely fragile? What if he did something wrong?

Lost in his increasingly agitated thoughts, he wandered past the chuunin operating the front desk and out the front door of the Tower before coming back to himself when the wall of noise from the busy street hit his ears. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he focused on _not_ thinking about how breakable children were. Down that path was only madness.

He tightened his fingers, momentarily surprised by the feel of paper against the sensitive pads of his fingers. He looked down, only to be met by the sight of the almost forgotten information scroll given to him by the Hokage.

Grateful for the opportunity embodied by the scroll, he started walking slowly down the street, not heading in any particular direction, but too disquieted to even consider sitting down somewhere. As he walked, he broke the seal holding the scroll closed with a flick of his thumb, and, unrolling it, he began to read, looking up every now and then to scan his surrounding. He may have been a shinobi, but he was well aware that he was no Kakashi.

Bringing his mind back to the matter at hand, he easily located Naruto's address, helpfully underlined and written two times larger than the rest of the information on the scroll. He adjusted his direction, turning down a side street that would eventually lead to the boy's apartment, before giving the rest of the scroll his attention.

He reached the small, rather rundown apartment complex sooner than he would have thought possible. Looking it over, he wondered how it was even still in business. Apparently, most people were to scared to even think of living in that close of a proximity to the jinchuuriki. The ones who did probably had no other choice, he realized.

Slipping the scroll into one of the pouches in his flak jacket, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. Walking carefully up the stairs, which barely looked like they could manage to hold his weight, he thought somewhat angrily that this was no place for a child to live. The possibility of injury was immensely higher than it would be in a place that was actually kept up.

Putting that thought away for the present, as he couldn't do anything to change Naruto's living situation yet, he realized that he had reached the door, peeling paint and graffiti rendering it hardly recognizable as one.

Lifting his hand, he knocked gingerly on the door, hoping it wouldn't fall off its hinges and break in retaliation. He waited in silence for several moments, then heard the sound of small feet padding closer to the door. Inhaling slowly one more time, he forcefully pushed his nervousness down.

The click of a lock sliding out of its position almost made Iruka snort with the irony. If someone wanted to break in, all they had to do was _breathe_ too hard. At that conclusion, his humor evaporated. If someone wanted to break into Naruto's home, it wouldn't take much. He wondered if it had happened before.

With a earsplitting creak that caused him to wince, the door swung slowly open, stopping before it even reached halfway. In the gap appeared a whiskered, suspicious face surrounded by bright yellow hair.

Iruka suddenly remembered that he _had_, in fact, seen the jinchuuriki at Ichiraku's. It had only been once, after a spectacularly long C-rank mission, and all the then-genin had wanted after bidding farewell to his teammates was a hot, steaming bowl of ramen.

Fortunately, he had arrived just in time to make it before closing, and had sat down at the counter with no small amount of relief. After ordering, and thanking Teuchi, the owner and cook, he finally looked around to see that, except for one small boy in a loud orange jumpsuit, there was no one else at the ramen stand, likely due to the late hour.

Which begged the question, _why was that child out this late_? When Teuchi placed his steaming bowl before him, the smell making his mouth water like an Akimichi's at a barbecue restaurant, he asked him the same thing. The man eyed him for a moment, and then answered carefully that the boy was an orphan, and his caretaker didn't like him much, and so left him alone as often as possible.

Consumed with outrage, that someone should treat a child so, he considered the funds left in his money pouch, and, upon seeing the boy's forlorn look at his now-empty bowl ('Where had it gone," Iruka wondered. 'It had been full when he had first entered the restaurant.'), it was decided. He quietly explained his desire to Teuchi, who smiled at him in approval and only took half of the proper amount of money. Iruka looked at him in shock, and tried to get him to take the rest of it, but the man refused until Iruka was forced to concede.

He looked over just in time to see the boy's small face practically split in half as he grinned ecstatically. He didn't stop to think about anything else until the bowl was half finished, and then he looked at Teuchi with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Ne, Teuchi-jiji? I didn't pay for this, so where did it come from?"

The ramen cook smiled back at the child, then tilted his head to where Iruka was sitting. The boy, Iruka realized when he snuck another peek in his direction, was floored by the simple gesture of kindness. Iruka frowned a little. Had no one ever shown him any before?

The child quickly recovered, however, and, after draining the last of his ramen in one fell swoop, he bounded over to where Iruka was sitting.

"Thank you so much, shinobi-san! The ramen was really really good, and no one has ever given me anything before, except for Other Jiji, and so it was really cool, and thank you so much!"

Iruka looked at him in awe, amazed that anyone could make that much of a run-on sentence and not be gasping at the end of it. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Hey, it was nothing, really. There's not really a need to thank me, you know?"

Teuchi, standing in the background, shook his head in wry amusement. That boy was terrible with compliments and gratitude both.

Iruka looked down at his bowl, and seeing that it was empty, set it back down on the counter. Thanking Teuchi, he turned to leave, stopping to bid good-bye to the boy, who had gone back to his seat with a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah, bye, shinobi-san! We'll definitely meet again when I'm Hokage, dattebayo! I'll make sure to give you the best missions!"

Iruka smiled back, amused by the boy's certainty. He raised a hand in a final farewell, turning down the road that led to his apartment.

Resurfacing after the moment's recollection, he looked once more in the direction of the jinchuuriki.

"Nice to meet you again, Naruto. I'm Umino Iruka, and I'm going to be you teacher."

**A/N: Special thanks for this chapter go to Lady Smaell and Tarume, both of whom are pretty much responsible for its creation. Feel free to go thank them if you liked it, and feel even more free to review, as Fanfiction has recently made that so much easier to do. Also, thanks to all the people who put this story on Story Alert and favorited it, that really made my day, but not _quite_ as much as a review (hint, hint). Seriously though, I really appreciate you all, so thanks again for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I... Don't own Naruto. I know, I know, it's hard for you all to believe, but my name really doesn't start with K and end with -ishimoto. Please continue to enjoy the story!**

Iruka blinked as the door was shut with a resounding _slam_. "That... Didn't go quite as well as I had hoped," he murmured, trying to think of an appropriate response to the unexpected situation. Granted, he hadn't really believed that Naruto would welcome him into his home with open arms, but he also hadn't expected anything quite like _that._

He stepped backwards a few feet, turning slightly to allow himself access to the corner support of the apartment's awning. Resting his back against it, he collected his thoughts and began to think up a new plan for confronting Naruto.

_You're a shinobi,_ a completely unhelpful portion of his mind whispered enticingly. _You _could_ just go through the window. Or break down the door._

Finding himself to be alarmingly drawn to the second option, Iruka forced himself to believe that it was just the lack of adequate sleep making itself known-never mind the fact that he'd had to learn, back when he was still a genin, how to function properly even at the very edge of collapse.

Plans and ideas, excepting the increasingly appealing door option, now seemed to have all taken a solemn oath to leave him alone. _Of course, _he thought with just the slightest bit of venom, _most of the time, the theories and possibilities never even give me any rest, and now, NOW, of all times, they finally let me be!_

Snorting in mild disbelief, he decided to simply revisit his original strategy.

He had barely even lifted his foot to move back into position by the door, however, when inspiration suddenly struck him with all the force of a flowerpot to the head. He winced slightly in remembered agony. Now _that_ had been a painful incident, and not just because of the blunt force trauma, either. To this day, he suspected the medic-nin passed his case file around when they needed a good laugh.

Shaking his head free of such terrible thoughts, a smirk made its slow, creeping way across his face. Naruto's previous caretaker had mentioned the boy had a predilection for pranking, hadn't she? Well then, in that case, he couldn't think of a better way to reintroduce himself to the young jinchuuriki.

Turning smartly on his heel and, deciding against once more risking his life on the rickety stairs, he jumped over the railing and let his gleefully evil anticipation (and the balls of his feet) cushion his impact on the ground that waited below him.

The things running through Iruka's mind as he left the immediate vicinity of the apartment complex caused the ANBU currently serving as the guard detail of one Uzumaki Naruto to shiver momentarily in abject terror before trying desperately to convince himself that he was mistaken. It didn't work. His clan, though small, was well-known within the bounds of Konoha for its accurate foretelling.

He warily palmed a kunai, switching quickly from his relaxed stance into a much more defensive one. Whatever was coming, he wanted to be ready.

A mere block away, a madly cackling Iruka had to duck into a nearby alley to hide his laughter. Leaning against the wall as he struggled for breath, a single thought, playing over and over in a smug, self-satisfied refrain, filled his head:

_Oh yeah. I still got it._

Naruto glanced warily out the window, just to make sure the shinobi (for nor civilian he knew of could have made that jump without breaking at least a few bones) was truly gone.

He didn't know what Jiji was trying to achieve by sending yet another caretaker for him. When Ashida had left his apartment in a huff, tears of frustration gathering in her eyes, he had hoped that that would be enough to convince the Hokage that he didn't _need_ someone to look out for him anymore.

_I'm six years old,_ he thought to himself, pouting just the slightest bit. _I'll be perfectly fine on my own, so why can't Jiji _see_ that?_

He had only tried to make friends with the first few caretakers that had been sent his way. After they had firmly, and rarely kindly, rebuffed his attachment, he had gradually stopped trying and simply ignored them when he could.

That tactic only worked for the next two or so, however, as they left to be replaced by guardians whose attitudes toward him ranged from uncaring to almost hateful. Almost, because he knew Jiji would never let anyone near him who actually meant him harm.

Not meaning him harm though, was not the same as liking, or even tolerating, him. And as his childish mind was slowly starved of the affection it so desperately craved, he managed to _almost_ convince himself that he didn't care; that he didn't need or want their affection. Nevertheless, in spite of it all, within the farthest reaches of his mind lay a need for love as vast and unfulfilled as the desert of Suna. After all, there was only so much the sometimes distant regard of a grandfather could do to fill that emptiness.

And so, the tiny seed of hope lingered, desperately awaiting the one whom it would be able to cling to with all it's might; the one it could truly call its family.

Iruka took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Overeagerness had been the downfall of many a good prank, as every itazura-nin past the rank of the lowest apprentice knew. However, that didn't stop the heady rush of anticipation, a feeling only surpassed by the eventual triumph of a prank well-played.

As he crouched on the rooftop several buildings away from Naruto's apartment, his shinobi-issue sandals easily steadying themselves against the sun-warmed tiles, he smiled, and settled himself in to wait.

All was in readiness, waiting only for the less-than-willing participants.

**Hello again, everybody! A huge thank-you to everyone who reviewed, and also those who Favorited and Story-Alerted. **

**I do apologize for the rather short chapter, but I'm leaving today to visit family for a week, and a week after that I'm leaving the country for two, so my main goal was to give you guys something to read, even if it was short. **

**With any luck, however, I may be able to get the next chapter out within the upcoming week. *fingers crossed***


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's the next chapter, complete with prank, as (tentatively) promised. I hope you all greatly enjoy it, and, as always, I don't own Naruto (as if that was ever in doubt).**

Naruto opened his door, slipped through the doorway and onto the landing outside as quietly as any six-year-old could be expected to, and slowly closed it behind him, wincing at the terrible shriek the hinges gave as they protested their continued use.

In all honesty, they were several years too old to be considered in good, or even passable, condition, but no one had ever offered to change them, and there was no way Naruto could do it himself. Sometimes, when the jinchuuriki was feeling distinctly cynical, he wondered if the landlord kept the hinges that way on purpose, just so that he would know each and every time Naruto entered his apartment-keeping tabs on him, as it were.

Making a valiant effort to ignore the thoughts that would bog him down in depression, given the opportunity, he smiled a little, feeling the onset of the high spirits that only came when he was endeavoring to do what he did best-pranking.

As he picked his way down the dilapidated staircase, being careful to avoid the many holes and rotted sections, he thought of the latest party that would soon be facing his attentions.

"Ne, ne, Teuchi-jiji! One miso ramen, please!" stated the exuberant boy as he slid into his favorite seat at the counter. The ramen stand owner chuckled at his favorite customer's predictable order.

"Sure you don't want something with vegetables in it this time, Naruto?"

The young jinchuuriki made a face suggesting that Teuchi had committed the ultimate blasphemy. "Add vegetables? To _ramen_? What kind of terrible person would _do_ such a thing!" He looked around at that point, as if expecting the responsible party to walk up and introduce themselves.

Turning his attention back to the once more chuckling ramen chef, and the steaming bowl of paradise that had just been placed in front of him, he gave a whoop and hurriedly offered up his thanks before digging in to his food as if it might be the last time he ever ate.

He didn't look up from his endeavor, even when another customer, recently arrived, snorted in disgust and rudely plunked his bowl back onto the counter. "Don't know how you can stand having that disgusting beast so close to you all the time," he muttered, hatred evident in his voice.

Teuchi turned to the customer with a glare. "You'd do well to watch your tongue," he replied. "I'll have none of that hateful language in my restaurant.

The man scoffed. "No need to tell _me_; I'm as good as gone. And you can bet I won't be back, either. Not as long as that _monster_ is allowed in with the rest of us decent folk-"

Here Teuchi cut him off, exaggeratedly surveying the stand, along with its two current inhabitants, before returning his gaze, level, but backed by iron, to the man. "The only decent folk I see here is this little boy. You? You're just scum, blaming others for all your failures. I wouldn't sell you any more ramen if you were the last person with two ryo to rub together in the entire Five Nations. Now," the iron in his manner had changed to steel, "Get. _OUT._"

The man staggered backwards from the force of the killing intent being leveled at him. He rushed out to the relative safety of the open street, only turning back when he was certain he had put a safe distance between himself and the ramen chef with hidden depths.

"I won't be back, and I'll spread the word that anyone with an ounce of sense won't be either! We'll see how high and mighty you are when you're out of business!" Convinced that he had had the last word, the man gave a triumphant smirked before quickly, a bit too quickly to look completely at ease, walking away.

Teuchi sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly against his face before turning back to his one remaining customer.

"Ne, Teuchi-jiji," began the customer in question, and Teuchi prepared himself to deflect any awkward and unanswerable questions the encounter might have raised. "Why was that guy such a jerk to you? He obviously doesn't understand that the ramen gods have gifted you with a superhuman ability to make amazing ramen. What an idiot."

With a dismissive snort, and having apparently forgotten his initial question, he turned back to his ramen, remembering belatedly that he had finished it halfway through the encounter-when he had started paying attention. Disappointed, he placed his chopsticks down on the counter and left his seat, moving past the still stationary Teuchi as he did so.

"I'll be back soon, so keep an eye out for me, Jiji!" he said as he raced off down the street, leaving the ramen chef feeling as though he had miraculously dodged an entire fleet of kunai-shaped questions.

Emerging from his short reverie, he found that he had made it to the bottom of the stairs while he was distracted. He grinned toothily as he picked his way across the open courtyard that sat in front of the apartment complex. He had a _very_ good prank planned for the idiot who had insulted Teuchi-jiji.

Caught up in his imaginings of all the wonderful ways his prank could play out, he almost didn't notice the bowl of ramen directly in his path. Once that wonderful smell hit his nose, however, any chance the ramen had of escaping his attention was lost.

"RAMEN!" he cried joyously, diving toward it with no small amount of childish abandon, never stopping to wonder just _why_ there was a bowl of ramen in, essentially, his front yard.

By the time he saw the string drawn taut at exactly foot-level, it was far, far too late. He went down in a flurry of limbs, ramen noodles, and-was that broth DYED!

He raised a dripping hand to his forehead, trying to wipe away the wetness there, but only secceeding in smearing more of the brilliant blue across the entirety of his face.

Shaking his hand in an effort to rid himself of the worst of the contaminated ramen broth, he looked wildly around, hoping to spot the perpetrator even as his own store of pranking knowledge reminded him that no good prankster chose a vantage point that was less than well hidden.

Even as he realized this, however, he caught a suspicious movement out of the corner of his eye, and whipped around to stare at it fully. What he saw caught him completely by surprise; so much so that his mouth had fallen open in gaping shock. It was several long moments before he was aware enough to close it again.

From the boughs of a nearby tree, carefully hidden within its branches, Iruka gave a positively terrifying smirk, both at Naruto's reaction and the almost unimaginable scenario that had precipitated it.

Boar wondered how it had all gone southward this quickly. It had been a completely normal day for the rookie ANBU, who had anticipated his mission of guarding Konoha's jinchuuriki going off without a hitch. He tried to think of what could have caused his current predicament, then froze when he remembered exactly _who_ was responsible. He groaned self-deprecatingly. He _knew_ should have called for backup the very instant he saw the unholy expression occupying the face of the chuunin from earlier.

Belatedly realizing that beating himself up about his mistakes wouldn't help his situation any, he set about trying to free himself from his bonds, getting more and more frustrated as the stubborn things refused to budge even an inch. If only his hands weren't too tightly bound behind him to form jutsus!

Pausing momentarily in his frantic work, he replayed exactly what had happened, kicking himself over and over as he saw all the things he _should_ have done.

_Chuckling, not unkindly, at the jinchuuriki's spill and subsequent color change_. He groaned. Next time he would move to help _first_, not after he had allowed himself a slight laugh.

_Preparing to jump to the ground from the roof of his current position, noticing too late the ninja wire wrapped carefully around his feet. _Taichou was going to absolutely _murder_ him for that idiotic mistake. What kind of ANBU didn't notice the presence of ninja wire around his limbs? He _still_ wasn't sure how that got there!

_Performing a clumsy roll before he hit the ground; stumbling as he came up, but at least he hadn't injured himself. _Sighing, he grudgingly admitted to himself that, with his current skill set, there wasn't much he could have done differently there.

_Standing erect, planting his feet as best he could, then drawing his hands together in preparation for a jutsu. _Looking back, he couldn't even remember what jutsu he had planned on using-not a very good sign.

_Whipping his head around at the whistle of displaced air, but not moving his hands from their ready position. Reacting an instant too late as the bola wrapped itself around his wrist;, feeling a moment of hope as his fingers were left free, then despair and shame when the weights revealed themselves to be filled with glue, sticking his fingers together within seconds and destroying any hope for an offensive attack. _He should have known better than to stay still-should have _moved_, but curse it all, he didn't even know where the attacks were coming from!

_Feeling his spirit slowly die within him as the final injustice was visited upon him in the form of a glittery nightmare. _Truthfully, he would have preferred facing the Sharingan ten times over to this. At least there was less shame in falling victim to the doujutsu of the Uchiha than being felled by ninja wire and glitter!

He looked himself over in despair, somehow just _knowing_ that the glitter wouldn't come off without a great deal of effort. With a final whimper, he remembered. _He was scheduled to report to his Taichou within the hour._

Certain that his short career as one of Konoha's finest had reached its end, he nevertheless surfaced from his bout of despondency when he heard sandaled feet hit the ground nearby. Turning to face the source of the sound as best he could, in a manner that resembled a drunk rabbit, he scowled under his mask when his suspicions were proved correct.

_Umino Iruka._

"I thought you had retired," he said in a low voice, suddenly too overwhelmed to care much about the answer.

The youth grinned at him, chuckling slightly at the ANBU's situation, as if it hadn't been entirely caused by him. "I like to keep you on your toes," he responded cheekily. "What kind of prankster would I be if I was predictable?"

Nodding grudgingly, (his answer did make sense, after all), Boar gestured to his still-bound feet and hands. "Do you think you could untie me?" he asked, his voice littered with uncertainty.

To his relief, Iruka just grinned wider and nodded, drawing a kunai from his pouch and crouching down to swipe it easily through the catch in the ninja wire, rolling the chakra-enforced steel back into a ball as he did so. He took less care with the bola, slicing through the rope an untangling it from around Boar's wrists.

Boar nodded his reluctant appreciation, having already spoken more than any ANBU should, and sighed when he once more looked over his still-glued fingers and disgustingly sparkly uniform. He turned to leave, wondering how on _earth_ he was supposed to explain this to his Taichou when he was momentarily halted by Iruka's voice coming from behind him.

"Milk," he stated, to Boar's utter confusion. "You can use milk to get the glue off, and lemon juice for the glitter."

By the end of his explanation Boar was almost crying from soul-crushing relief. He wouldn't have to show up in front of his Taichou looking like a child's toy. He turned halfway, giving a deep bow of utmost gratitude to the chuunin before using Shunshin to make his way to his own apartment before anyone whose opinion actually mattered could see him in his current state.

"Ne, shinobi-san," came Naruto's voice from across the yard. "Why'd you let him go? Wouldn't it have been a better prank to just leave him there?"

Iruka smiled as he made his way over to the boy, replying when he was directly in front of him. "It might have been funnier for some people, but ANBU-san's pride would have been deeply hurt, and I might have made an enemy. This way, we can still laugh, but one day ANBU-san might even laugh with us. Do you understand?"

Nauto's blank look assured Iruka that he didn't. Sighing slightly, he dropped to one knee in front of the boy, resisting the urge to chuckle at the splatters of blue across his upper body. "There are two main types of pranks, Naruto: the ones we do just for fun, to make other people laugh, and the ones you seem most inclined toward, which we use to get back at other people, but only if they deserve it. The prank on ANBU-san was the first kind. I was trying to make you laugh, and ANBU-san was a casualty of that. He hadn't done anything wrong, so there wasn't any reason to be cruel and leave him there. Does that make more sense?"

Naruto nodded slowly, his chest slowly flooding with warmth as he replayed the older boy's words over and over. He had done all that for _him_? He smiled brightly at the shinobi, his expression for once completely genuine. "You're pretty cool, shinobi-san!"

At this point Iruka gave in to his overwhelming urge to laugh. "Took you long enough to figure that out," he said, reaching up to ruffle Naruto's hair. However, instead of protesting and ducking out from under the touch, as most children would, Naruto remained frozen, as if he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do in response.

Iruka realized that the boy had likely never been touched in a friendly manner before. Hearing a distant sound that he was _sure_ signified the cracking of a part of his heart, he forced a smile onto his face.

"Hey, Naruto, how about we go to Ichiraku's and we can retry the whole introduction thing, okay?" His smile become markedly less forced when he realized that, judging by the whoop and elated jump, Naruto had probably only heard the first part of his proposition. And that was just fine.

**(Possibly) Unfamiliar Terms:**

**Taichou: Captain, in this case, of Boar's ANBU squad/team.**

**Shunshin: D-rank jutsu which allows the user to vanish in a swirl of leaves (for Konoha shinobi) and appear some distance away, depending on the strength of the user.**

**Itazura-nin: (from the last chapter) Basically, a prankster, formed from the Japanese words for 'prank' and 'person'.**

**Thanks once again, minna-san, for reading, and especially to everyone who reviewed, favorite, and story alert-ed this! I really, really appreciate all of you. The next update likely won't be for sometime close to two months, what with school starting up and everything else. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed the prank! May God bless each and every one of you.**


	5. Chapter 5

Hey, everyone.

I'll just come right out and say it: I won't be finishing this story.

I promised myself when I started this work that I wouldn't quite it halfway through, because I always hate when authors do that, but some RL problems and changes have made me change my mind.

I'm especially sorry to all of you who thought this was a new chapter, and ended up getting this depressing news instead. Gomen nasai.

I'd really like to thank everyone who's reviewed this; it was wonderful, and I'm so grateful to all of you. Additionally, if anyone would like to take this particular idea and make it their own, they are more than welcome to do so.

Thank you again, and may God bless you all wherever life may take you,

Meiy


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